


Corpus Delicti

by Tired_Introvert



Series: Lavender Oil [2]
Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, I promise I want to see him happy, Implied Sexual Content, Inner Dialogue, M/M, Spoilers, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 02:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tired_Introvert/pseuds/Tired_Introvert
Summary: This is a series of Ficlets describing Frost’s (my WOL) mindset and experiences after Lavender Oil and Poor Decision Making, as well as creating a lead up to a soon to be written fic that will be set post-Shadowbringers.Can technically be read as standalone.Chapters will contain individual Spoiler Warnings for each chapter.





	1. Corpus Delicti

**Author's Note:**

> This Chapter contains spoilers for Patch 4.3

Corpus delicti. No body, no crime. Or in this case, no body, Zenos lives. That was the only explanation. His stolen Echo, what did he call it? Resonant? I survived countless, normally fatal wounds, maybe Zenos was the same. The same… are we really the same? Is my cruelty for the sake of the weak and more justified than your cruelty for the sake of your father, your empire, yourself? You enjoy violence and destruction. And I wear them like fine jewelry. A brilliant garnet ring, shining like the river of blood I have spilled. Alabaster armlets, forever a reminder of the skeletons that are never buried. Sapphire earrings, dripping and hanging low like the tears of their loved ones, and the tears of those I failed to protect. And an aquamarine amulet, reflecting the eyes of the monsters I know both of us are.  
You are the one person who has seen my demons and has not tried to cage them. You beheld my scars and made them bleed anew, carving new meaning and purpose.   
If you aren’t dead, and you’re willingly missing, I will kill you myself. If someone else is holding you, they will face the wrath of the monster you found in me.


	2. A Poor Simulacrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for patch 4.3 - 4.5

This was not his Zenos. The monster in front of him was hollow, lifeless. Elidibus was a being of shadow and void. But Zenos was a being of earth, steady and unstoppable, with a single focus. This was wrong. No fancy words or lofty laments could describe the wrongness of this situation. His soul was gone. His body was a puppet. The creature he needed was dead. And this thing—this pretender, was but a poor simulacrum of the man whose mask it wore. Frost could not defeat the Ascian, he knew this. But he had to try, for his friends who would never witness the beast in his heart. For the towns who would be ash, if not for his lies. For the leaders who would be unseated if not for his deception. Only Zenos. Only he would never hate, or judge the fractured horrors that dwelled inside him.  
Zenos said something then. No, not Zenos, he reminded himself. Elidibus. The ascian continued, but Frost could not hear, the voice too painful. Frost glared up at the pretender.   
“Does it hurt to see me like this?” Elidibus taunted in the voice of his monster. Frost snarled, his anger starting to well up,  
“Zenos is a great many things… but a puppet was never one of them.” This wrongness would be corrected. It had to be. Be it by his hand or the hand of another. Zenos was a slave to no man, or ascian.


	3. I'm Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains major Heavensward spoilers, as well as very light Dragoon level 45 class quest spoilers.  
> This chapter also contains patch 4.3 spoilers. Feels warning...  
> if you squint.

Frost absentmindedly examined his lance, tracing the knots and grooves with his thumb as he rode through the snowy mountains of Coerthas. He wasn’t a new lancer per se, but it certainly wasn’t his strongest skill. His eyes flickered to the road ahead then back to the weapon in his hand. He had to call a dragon with a flute and retrieve its skull. It felt pretty mundane given his past exploits, but he wasn’t the best Dragoon so this quest was going to be hard enough.

Frost’s chocobo, Cerberus, stopped with a snort and began clawing at the snow.

“I guess this is the place.” Frost mumbled to himself as he slid off his chocobo. When his feet hit the ground he noticed they weren’t far from a cobblestone path leading up to a graveyard containing 3 tombstones. He knew plenty of people who felt uneasy in cemeteries, too many ghosts and a constant reminder of inevitability. Frost turned to the graves and gently patted Cerberus as he passed, slowly walking to the location to summon the beast.

***

With a decisive and poorly placed thrust of his lance, the dragon finally lay dead. Frost was almost dead. And he was quite pleased with himself for training his chocobo to heal.

“I am the world’s shittiest dragoon,” Frost sighed shaking his head and leaning up against one of the tombstones.

“What?” He asked, holding his hand out to Cerberus, “Not even gonna disagree with me?” Cerberus chirped happily and jammed his face into Frost’s palm, rubbing his scalp against the Dragoon’s fingers. 

“Are you a chocobo or a cat?” Frost mused as he let his eyes wandered over the barren scenery until they fell on a singular tombstone, far from the rest.

“That…” Frost trailed off. There was no way. A pit formed in Frost’s stomach as he slowly dragged himself up and cautiously walked over to the lone grave. There was no mistaking it. If the name wasn’t a glaring reminder of his failure, the broken shield that still rested against the stone was. He felt his heart sink to the depth of his guts as his eyes began to prick with tears. How had he forgotten? 

“You deserved so much more, and better, and so much better.” Frost sniffed as he sat at the foot of the grave. He hung his head as a tear fell to the snow.

“Your smile,” Frost choked out, “Your kindness. You could light up a room with your presence alone. You welcomed us, knowing nothing about us and you—“ Frost’s voice broke as he was wracked with a sob. He shook his head, unable to continue. Frost never did take the time to grieve. He couldn’t. Thordan had to be stopped. Nidhogg had to be slain. Estinien had to be saved. He couldn’t. And at the end, all Haurchefant had asked was for him to smile, and be happy.

_ A smile better suits a hero. _

His heart had snapped in that moment. But he had tried to smile for his friend, and continue being a beacon of hope for those around him, all the while he felt broken and empty. 

“You didn’t have to save me!” Frost whined, balling his fists in the snow, “I have survived worse, I—Why?! You didn’t…” Frost shook his head letting his tears run rivulets in the snow,

“I wish you hated me! I didn’t deserve you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Frost felt a nudge against his back and nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to see Cerberus cooing worldly as he began to rub his beak against Frost’s cheeks. 

“Cerberus mhmmf, I’m mhmph—fine!” He tried to say through all the noir feathers in his face.

_ You may see yourself as a monster. _

_ But listen not to your demons, _

_ only to those who care about you. _

Frost pushed at his chocobo, half pushing and half scratching behind his ears. Finally, Cerberus relented and opted to sit beside Frost, resting his head in the Hyur’s lap. Frost’s gaze returned to the stone. Haurchefant would be so disappointed, in the thoughts running through his head and the people he had taken to bed. Frost smiled solemnly. Haurchefant and Zenos couldn’t have been more different. One’s smile made him feel warm and safe, the other’s set his every nerve alight with the urge to fight or run. Haurchefant was loved. Zenos was feared. Haurchefant was a knight. Zenos was a dragon. Haurchefant’s hands were soft and kind, incapable of inflicting pain as they brushed Frost’s skin. Zenos did not  _ do _ gentle. He would tear with every touch, leaving his flesh on fire as he grabbed and clawed.

“I fell for the anti-you,” Frost murmured, “And now you’re both gone.”


	4. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains major Shadowbringers (5.0) spoilers.

The gentle fire light flickered its reflection in Frost’s glass. The Rising Stones was his home. Eorzea was his home. But without the bickering of the twins, the sarcasm of Thancred, and the wit of Y’shtola, this place just felt empty. Was it sacrilegious to want to stay in the First? Frost snorted, he’d killed so many gods over the years his very existence was sacrilege. No, Tataru did her best to make him feel welcome, but home is never a place, it’s the people you love: your friends and family.  
Frost stared down at his glass, watching as the footsteps of strangers created ripples on its surface. He couldn’t drink, every action just took so much out of him. He just wanted to rest. Or walk. Or scream. Anything. Anything to break this madness and sorrow that was tearing him apart. His family was trapped in the first and he couldn’t even be angry with the culprit. The Exarch was a sweetheart and the way he looked at Frost made his heart melt. He couldn’t hate him, and he couldn’t blame him. Frost could go back and return to the First and spend time with his friends. He could get to know better the two new members of his family, Ryne and the Exarch. But there was too much to do here. Black Rose had to be halted. Varis had to be overthrown. Elidibus needed his dick chopped off. Erm… well after he was out of Zenos’s body. Frost blushed, covering his mouth with his hand. Sometimes his mind just wouldn’t shut up. He shook his head lightly. Why did it always come to this?  
“Frost!”  
Frost jumped, his knee banging into the bar and nearly knocking his drink over. He turned to look at an amused Tataru followed by two large figures.  
“Calm down Frost, it is just us.” Gaius smiled, his expression warm but tired.  
“Though perhaps he wishes it were another…” Estinien added, giving Frost a pointed look.  
“Oh Estinien, you wound me,” Frost replied feigning indignation, “You’re my third favorite Elezen. Er, no. Make that fourth. Um, oh, I forgot, fifth. No, actually wait, hmm, how many Elezen live in Eorzea?”  
Frost felt a sharp pain in his calf near where Tataru was standing followed by her high pitched voice demanding him to, “Be nice!”  
Frost shook his head,  
“It is good to see you my friend,” then in a more serious tone added, “And, thank you.”  
Estinien sighed with a hint of a smile,  
“Couldn’t have the warrior of light die on us.”  
“But we bring important news,” Gaius cut in, “It’s about Zenos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really prefer my stories to fit into the FFXIV cannon timeline so writing a fic about an upcoming event that hasn’t occurred yet was a bit new for me. Though in all honesty the SHB ending was the best I could have hoped for and it’s still got me smiling like an idiot. 
> 
> I may end up adding more Ficlets to this but I really need to direct my energy to the next fic in this series. And porn is so much harder to write than fluff. With fluff it can just be sweet and flow. With porn it’s like, wait. Where was his arm? No, that’s not physically possible. Legs don’t bend in that direction. Wait when did he move? Did I mention he moved? Damn, his foot would have clipped through the floor, I need to rewrite.  
> Please send help.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this. I hope you enjoyed it. Any feedback is much appreciated or message me in-game, Frost Runemori- Brynhildr.


End file.
